


Sad, Beautiful, Tragic

by bccalling



Series: Moments [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Episode: s05e22 Swan Song, M/M, Mutual Pining, Season/Series 04, Season/Series 05, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-06
Updated: 2016-12-06
Packaged: 2018-09-06 19:31:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8766103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bccalling/pseuds/bccalling
Summary: When Dean returns from hell, he still can’t bring himself to give in. At least until Sammy decides to say yes.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A follow-up to [Sorry](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8573773). Can be read as a standalone, though.

The night Dean comes back, Sam loses himself. Needs his brother close, so he leads Dean to his bed and slips beneath the covers with his big brother, spoons up behind him and wraps Dean tight in his arms. When he presses his palm over Dean's heart, he can feel his brother smile as Dean pulls Sam's fingers to his lips for soft kisses that say _I'm here_ over and over again. 

Sam almost breaks Dean that night. Presses their bodies together and breathes wet kisses into Dean's neck until he finally turns his brother around and kisses him sound, holding tight and sipping desperately from his big brother's lips. And it's good, so good, but Dean stops him soon, pressing a few final hungry kisses to Sam's lips before he smiles and whispers soft, "We can't, Sammy. Just. I can't."

And Sam wants to cry. Because he'd thought, maybe, with Dean back, that they'd finally be able to cross that line, tear down that wall they'd built around themselves to keep this thing at bay. Sam loves Dean. More than anything. And he wants his brother, so much it hurts, but he knows Dean's protective and scared and chivalrous and Dean thinks he's somehow going to corrupt or take advantage. So Sam tries not to push. Tries so hard.

But he also wants, so deeply, and he can't hide that. Doesn't want to, really, because part of him hopes that if he makes it known how much he needs to be close to his brother that maybe Dean will give in to all the desires Sam knows they're both feeling. He's trying not to push, but he won't hide.

But Dean's stubborn. Won't break.

There are stolen kisses in their most vulnerable moments. Touches that almost lead to more.

But it never goes beyond. No matter how much they want.

And that hurts Sam. Makes him feel like he's not enough. And he's made mistakes--so many mistakes--since he lost Dean to hell, and he can't seem to stop. He feels hurt and betrayed and lost because he's trying, he is, really and truly, but Dean keeps pushing him away. Keeps insisting that Sam's attempts at saving people are wrong. But they don't feel wrong, and it hurts that Dean doesn't trust him.

They drift, slowly. Dean feels hurt and alone and so does Sam, and Sam's not sure how to fix them. When things are bad, when they have scares or just particularly bad days, they curl close and remind themselves that they're both still alive with gentle touches and lingering kisses, but it never lasts and it never goes beyond surface. And they still don't share; they live their lies, broken and lost, and they turn to everyone but one another and the whole damn year is full of _hurt_.

* * *

 

It's two years, and a million lies later, but none of that matters anymore. Not with Sammy so close like this.

They've almost. They've almost a hundred times over, in fact, but Dean's always been strong willed, and he's held out. Insisted, just this side of giving in, that he can't break Sam that way. That it's dirty and bad and wrong and so many other things they can never have.

But then Sam decided to say yes.

Dean feels like he's falling apart. Like he's failed the only person he's ever loved; and he's broken, destroyed them both.

Sometimes he wonders, thinks maybe if they had trusted a little deeper, a little more over the past couple of years, that maybe they'd have avoided all of this. Maybe they'd be okay and Sammy wouldn't be here and maybe Dean would have succeeded in keeping his baby brother safe.

But he'd failed. He hadn't been able to keep his little brother from this brand new hell he knows will be so much worse than the one he himself had suffered.

Because he'd failed.

But he won’t fail Sammy again.

* * *

 

They don't have much time left, Dean knows. Fighting against all of heaven and hell for these last precious moments, so that maybe, just maybe, they can give one another the love they've always wanted. Wrong doesn't matter anymore, not when _gone_ is just around the corner. Dean doesn't know how he's going to cope. Can't imagine, for even a moment, the hurt and fear and loneliness that will take hold the moment Sam utters that tiny little affirmation that will let the devil in. 

He's made promises he knows he can't keep, but he'll try. He'll try for Sammy. And one day, when he can't take it anymore he'll follow his brother right down to hell.

But for now--for now, Sammy's here, close, and Dean can't deny his little brother any longer. Not when Sammy's the one making the sacrifice.

"Dean?" Sam's voice is soft, soothing, as he steps up behind his brother in the candlelight, his fingers gently trailing up along Dean's arms, tracing over the lines of Dean's back as his fingers ghost his brother's skin. He tugs at the plaid still covering Dean's shoulders, and it slips away slow as Sam's lips press soft to Dean's neck.

Dean feels Sam smile soft when he realizes that Dean's wearing nothing beneath; the skin of Dean's chest bare under Sam's hands as gentle fingers drift over every cut of muscle now revealed. Dean's never quite realized just how much pleasure touch can bring when it's so, so gentle, but he's never felt anything better. He leans back into Sam, who's still pressing gentle kisses over the skin of Dean's neck, and shifts to blanket Sam's hands with his own, letting Sam guide them, but holding on to that point of gentle contact. He feels so safe here in his little brother's arms. 

And part of him feels guilty for that. Feels as though he should be the one protecting Sam in this desperate goodbye. His lips tremble a bit as he's reminded of the loss they’re about to suffer, and he swallows hard against a flood of tears he's trying to contain. Sam's arms tighten around him then, and he knows Sam can read him instantly. It cuts deep with all the love it makes him feel.

"Shh," Sam whispers soft, his own voice weak with barely contained tears, as he twines his fingers with Dean's and kisses the shell of Dean's ear, "I know it hurts. I'm sorry, Dean. So sorry it has to be this way."

Dean clenches his eyes shut tight against the pain and draws a steadying breath before turning in Sam's arms. He reaches out to run soothing fingers through Sam's hair, stroking gentle at the nape of his brother's neck. "It's okay," he whispers, his eyes shining with the pain of this desire. "How about we make the most out of the time we have left, hmm?"

Sam smiles a little and dips down to capture Dean's lips. It's gentle, innocent for now, and it forces a smile to Dean's eyes. 

They don't have much time, but they're going to savor what they have. Dean reaches out, unbuttons Sam's shirt slow, fingers playing softly at every new inch of skin revealed to his gaze. Sammy's perfect, every inch of him, and Dean knows this, of course, objectively. This isn't the first time he's seen his brother's skin bared before his gaze. But there's new purpose behind it. Purpose that whispers of pain and comfort and desire. And Dean knows that this will hurt more than anything in his world, but he's so full of awe that he gets to have this. To have Sam. 

So he savors every touch. Memorizes every shiver and gasp that overtakes Sam's body as Dean's fingers work at the button of Sam's jeans, Dean's lips trailing open kisses down Sam's chest.

It feels surreal in so many ways because it feels good and right and incredible. And Dean's spent so much time saying no--denying everything they've both needed in order to preserve his own conscience--and part of him regrets it. Regrets that they'll have nothing more than this night in this bed to solidify this amazing thing that neither one of them should ever feel, but that they do, so, so deeply. Dean wants a hundred years to memorize every inch of skin, every scar and bruise. Dean wants everything. But he can't have it, because for the two of them, there's only here and now, together.

But Dean will be damned if he's not going to make the most of it.

His lips return to Sam's, just a little too harsh in his desperation, and his fingers urgently shove at Sam's boxers, working to force them down with his little brother's jeans. It only takes Sam a moment to realize what's going on--the hurt that's tearing through Dean--and his strong hands wrap around Dean's, halting his brother's movements. Dean's shocked out of his desperation, eyes wide and blinking for a moment at their now joined hands as he slowly comes back to himself. He takes in a deep breath and tries to force away the tears that gather as his eyes focus up on Sam's.

"Hey," Sam murmurs, bringing Dean's fingers up to press his lips against each knuckle, the soothing sensation slowly calming Dean's rapid heartbeat. "I know, De. I know. But we've got some time, and I want this right. Not desperate and harsh. Not some punishment for you because you have it in your head that you've done something wrong or you're doing something wrong. We've been waiting so long for this, Dean. And yes, it's goodbye, but it's also our first and I want it to be incredible and memorable and forever because it's our last I love you." Dean nods as tears sting at his eyelids, and Sam pulls him close and holds him for long moments. "Let's take it slow. Do this right."

"Yeah," Dean presses the words into the skin of Sam's neck. “Yeah, Sammy. I can do that."

Sam doesn't let up immediately, just presses closer and lets his fingers pet over Dean's skin as Dean cuddles close and holds on as his body calms enough to control his emotions.

It's not long, though, before Sam's pulling back, taking control and undressing Dean slow, letting gentle fingers linger on soft touches as he goes and offering Dean all of himself. 

Dean's not sure, really, how Sam's so in control of himself. His brother's about to walk into certain death, but he's somehow come to terms with it. Accepted that this is the only way. It makes Dean hurt, but it also gives him strength because it means Sam's in control, that Sam's strong enough to win this. Dean just wishes he was sure he wanted Sam to win. Because part of him still thinks maybe, if they fail, maybe Dean could get Sam back.

But there's no coming back from Lucifer's cage. And there's no happy ending for Dean.

He'll let Sam do what he needs to, though, and he'll keep the promise he's made to his little brother for as long as his sanity will allow him. 

And right now, here, in this moment? Here, he'll give Sammy everything he's ever wanted from Dean. Because Sammy deserves it. And Dean wants it, too, more than anything.

He's lost again, in thought, when he feels Sam smile sadly against his temple as he walks Dean backward until his legs hit the edge of the bed.

"Hey," Sam whispers soft. "Need you with me, big brother. Both gotta be in this or it can't happen, man."

Dean shakes his head a little to clear it, and then meets Sam's eyes with a smile. "I'm here now," he vows, as Sam's fingers begin to explore Dean's skin again, reawakening Dean's arousal and leaving him focused only on Sam and the feelings singing through his veins. There’s nothing better, nothing more, than the feel of Sam's touch to his skin, and he can't help but be right here with Sammy. "I'm here."

"Good," Sam whispers as he lays Dean out beneath him and blankets his brother's body with his own. "All I want, Dean, is now. Let me love you. _Please_."

"Yeah. Yeah, Sammy. God, _anything_ ," he gasps out, lost in the feel of his brother's naked skin pressed to his own. 

There will never be anything better or more right or pure or perfect. Not for Dean. Nothing will ever, ever compare to having Sam this close or deep or intimate. 

It's everything Dean's ever wanted, and as he holds Sam close and they rock together in slow desperation, Dean knows he'll never need this way again--never _love_ this way again.

So he pulls Sam close and pushes the hair from his brother's eyes. Wants to _see_ him.

Sam smiles sad and Dean's eyes brim with tears as Sam leans down to catch Dean's lips in a watery kiss. Dean wishes they had more time--wishes they had days, weeks, millennia--to hold and love and _be_.

But they don't. So Dean pulls Sam close and chases their pleasure as he whispers, over and over again, those words he never says.

_I love you_.

And in those moments? In those moments, it's enough.


End file.
